The Proof Is in the Passion

1^st Sunday In Lent

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church

Romans 8:31-39

What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? ³²He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? ³³Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. ³⁴Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. ³⁵Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? ³⁶As it is written:
   "For your sake we face death all day long;
      we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered."

³⁷No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. ³⁸For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, ³⁹neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

A woman with tear-stained cheeks knocks on the door of the pastor’s study.  No sooner is she invited in then the sobbing picks up again.  “Pastor, I don’t feel like my husband loves me anymore.  We’ve been married for 18 years, and it seems like he’s fallen out of love with me.  He doesn’t pay attention to me the way he used to.  We never go out on dates like we did when we were first married.  He would always be doing the most thoughtful and romantic things totally out of the blue, but not anymore.  Even just the way he would look at me meant the world to me.  But none of that happens anymore.  Our marriage is so different from what it was, and honestly, I don’t know if he still wants to be married to me.”

Hearing someone else experience such emotions can tug at our hearts, possibly hitting home more for some than others.  A relationship that feels like it is on the brink of breakdown can be devastating… even more so if that relationship is our relationship with God.  Aren’t there times when each of us can identify with the wife in the pastor’s study, feeling like maybe God isn’t really all that interested in continuing his relationship with me?  During such times, we might be unable to get past one particular phrase the first verse in our Lesson from Romans this morning: “If God is for us…”  “Is he really?” we find ourselves asking.  “Can I really be sure that God is ‘for’ me?”  When we don’t feel particularly close to him, when it feels like prayers are falling on deaf ears, when things all around us feel like they are spinning out of control and he doesn’t seem to care, we might be tempted to doubt if God is for us.

If that is the case, dear friends, then I encourage you to look at this season of Lent in a different light.  Yes the season of Lent, more than any other in the church year, pays special attention to how God’s law paints us as sinners into a corner.  Yes, it throws back the curtains and sheds light on our secret and shameful sins.  Yes, it all-too-vividly portrays the ugliness of sin.

But Lent does something more: it shows us beyond the shadow of a doubt that God is for us.  When Paul posed the question, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” he pointed directly to the proof that serves as the focal point of Lent: “He… did not spare his own son, but gave him up for us all.”  Is God for us?  He gave up his only Son – there’s your proof.  Is God for us?  Jesus willingly chose to suffer for you at the hands of those he easily could have crushed – there’s your proof.  Is God for us?  Jesus died in your place when he had done absolutely nothing deserving of death – there’s your proof.  The proof is in the Passion; if Jesus suffered and died for you, can you really ever question his love and devotion to you?  May it never be so again.

Instead, let Paul’s confidence be your own.  He knew what his Savior had done for him, and that did more to boost his confidence in God than anything else ever could.  You know what your Savior has done for you, and, as Paul goes on to state, that means you need fear no accusation, no condemnation, and no separation.

We have all been accused, either at home, at school, at work, or even at church.  It is no pleasant thing to be the one at whom the finger is pointed when a charge is made.  It doesn’t necessarily matter if the accusation is true or not, because once an accusation is made, immediately a person’s reputation is called into question.  That is what’s so damaging about being accused of anything.  Sometimes the accusations are justified, other times they are not, but rarely do they leave us without any scars.

When it comes to spewing out accusations, no one is better than Satan himself, whose very name means “The Accuser.”  He masterfully wields the world and our own sinful flesh to bring charge after charge against us.  The world will not let even a single infraction committed by a Christian go unnoticed.  Prominent Christian preachers and leaders make national headlines when the skeletons in their closets come tumbling out.  The world then responds by plastering the church as a huddle of hypocrites.  Such criticism trickles down to each of us personally as we each have experienced our own share of ridicule and harassment from the world.

Even still, the accusations the world lofts at us don’t cut us nearly as deep as those of our own sinful flesh.  Our own consciences bear witness against us, accusing us of such things that would put us to shame if others were to find out.  Our sinful flesh downplays forgiveness while emphasizing guilt.  It accuses in such a way as to try to convince us that while Christ’s sacrifice may well cover the sins of the world, it couldn’t even begin to cover my own deplorable sins.

Yet no matter how much the devil manipulates the world and our own flesh to accuse us, Paul confidently boasts that the devil has nothing on us.  He asks the question “Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen” (v.33)?  The answer is “no one.”  Those whom God has chosen are no longer susceptible to any accusations hurled against them.  Satan can accuse and point his finger at us all he wants.  God says he has no case.  Those chosen by God cannot be accused by Satan because “It is God who justifies” (v.33).  God has made us righteous through Christ and declared us “not guilty.”  Satan can’t undo God’s declaration.  God assures us we are free from any accusation brought before him.

Paul then goes a step further and assures us that because God is for us we’re also free from any condemnation.  Paul, again knowing full well the answer, asks another question: “Who is he that condemns” (v.34)?  It stands to reason that if no possible charge or accusation can be brought against us, then neither can there be any judgment of condemnation.  While some would suggest that Paul is more or less repeating the previous thought, being accused is not really the same as being condemned, is it? For even when someone accuses you of a thing there is at the very least still a chance you will be found innocent, but when you are condemned such a sentence is final.

If I accuse you of speeding on your way to church, my accusation could turn out to be false if there was another individual in the car or a witness driving near you that could testify to the contrary.  The accusation wouldn’t stand.  However, if you were pulled over on the way to church by a policeman for speeding, you’d be condemned.  His radar tagged you going over the speed limit and condemned you.  There would be little room to appeal.  Neither is there any room to appeal before God when it comes to condemnation.

And the accuser Satan has all those passages which speak of hell and judgment and eternal damnation memorized like the back of his hand.  After repeatedly accusing us he likes to pull out those passages and remind us that the consequence of our sin is eternity without God.  He accuses and accuses and accuses in the hope that something will stick and we’ll eventually believe that our  celebration in heaven will be replaced with condemnation in hell.

Paul assures us that won’t happen because “Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us” (v.34).  Paul lays out three proofs that guarantee we won’t be condemned; Jesus died, he rose, and is even now at God’s side interceding for us!  God is indeed for us; he died for us, rose for us, and intercedes for us.  Such realities are all the evidence needed to keep us from being condemned.

But God, through the inspired pen of Paul, isn’t done yet.  Should the Christian’s heart still be heavy even after the fears of accusation and condemnation have been alleviated, there’s one more fear God wants to remove.  Paul wraps up his series of rhetorical questions by asking “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ” (v.35)?  For the third time the implied answer is “no one” and “nothing.”  To hammer the point home Paul goes so far as to make a list ruling out absolutely everything: trouble, hardship, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, sword, death, life, angels, demons, present, future, any powers, height, depth, or anything else in all creation (v.35, 38, 39). When God embraces us with his love, it’s not just a one-armed cordial hug, “hello”;  rather, it’s the sort of big old bear hug that almost leaves you breathless because his grip is so tight.  And, there’s not one single thing in all of creation that can separate us from that love.

Paul states it another way to help us get the picture.  He says that the result of God’s love for us is that we are “more than conquerors” (v.37).  In other words, because God is for us we are super-conquerors.  God makes our every victory over Satan a lopsided blowout. His love leaves us with an undefeated record against Satan based solely on the merits of Christ.  In this respect God is like the most intimidating body guard the world has ever seen, and when the devil tries to ambush us with all his schemes and ploys, and sees God at our side, he knows he’s not going to get anywhere.  It’s not our own size or might that is so effective, but rather the all-powerful God right at our side.  With him beside us we are invincible.    

               

With God for us, who can accuse us?  No one.  Who can condemn us?  No one.  Who can separate us from his love?  No one.   Your sin cannot accuse, condemn, or separate you from God, because he is the one who justifies.  If anyone tries to convince you otherwise, remind them that God’s declaration simply cannot be overruled.  God is for us.  No one can stand against us. Amen.

Behold God's Glory

seventh sunday after the epiphany – The Transfiguration of our lord

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

2 Corinthians 4:3-6

3 And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. 4 The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. 5 For what we preach is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake. 6 For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.

(NIV 2011)

I don’t know who finds it more frustrating, the one who can’t see it, or the one who can, but can’t get the other person to see it.  “It’s right there!” shouts one in frustration.  “Where?  I can’t see it!” responds the other.  They are both looking at the same scene, but only one is able to zero in on the object in question.  Or, they are looking at the same two-in-one illusion, and one sees one image, and the other, another.  Aside from potentially causing a great deal of frustration, even if one of them fails to ever see what the other does, it certainly would not have any bearing, positively or negatively, on either individual.  After all, such things are not a matter of life or death.

Not so in the case of Paul’s words this morning to the Corinthians.  He too poses a situation in which one party is unable to see something clearly, but in his scenario, it absolutely is a matter of life and death.  Paul writes, “And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing” (v.3).  What a tragedy!  What an absolutely awful thing to consider, that those who so desperately need the gospel, the good news of Jesus, can’t even see it.  It is hidden from them.  Does this not tear at your heart?  Doesn’t it break it in two to know that so many are perishing, and it’s because they can’t even see the one thing they need – the gospel!  It’s significantly easier for us to write off unbelievers if we see them as stubborn enemies of the cross.  Then it is easy to resent them and be bitter toward them.  But what if we took a different view?  What if instead of taking the view, “they’ll get what they deserve,” we treated them as those who are helplessly lost and blind, and don’t even know it?  One unbeliever might be merely indifferent, and another might very well be an arrogant blowhard who openly despises Christianity, but since they’re both in the same boat of blindness, can we have anything but pity on them?  What if we realized where the real blame needs to be placed?  What if we realized that the real fault does not belong to the unbelieving blind, but to the one who keeps the gospel hidden from them?

It’s no big secret who that is.  Paul writes,  “The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God” (v.5).  Who is the god of this age?  He hides behind different philosophies and ideologies, he pits reason against religion, he calls lies truth, he thrives on indifference, and he’s getting more and more bold even to attack the Christian church head on with increasing ferocity.  The devil will use whatever he can as a veil to keep the unbeliever in the dark.  Satan will stop at nothing to keep the light of the gospel from piercing that veil of unbelief and exposing the darkness that clouds those who are perishing. 

Satan’s success at keeping the gospel veiled to those who are perishing has had a disastrous impact on churches as well.  As the church has witnessed the evil one’s astounding success at keeping the gospel veiled, many have wrongly drawn this absolutely devastating conclusion: the gospel no longer serves as an effective tool in bringing people to the light of Christ.  “If the good news of Jesus has been preached and people still remain veiled in darkness, then the good news must no longer be getting it done.”  Such a conclusion undermines the church by downplaying the only tool God has entrusted to it to win hearts and souls to Jesus: the gospel.  So, like Esau, the church sells its birthright for a pot of stew.  The door is opened wide and anything and everything becomes fair game for winning the lost.

If the gospel doesn’t do it, then let’s “adjust” the gospel a little bit so it’s more in line with what people want to hear.  The mention of “sin” doesn’t really seem to be terribly popular with the world today, so that might be the first to go.  And, if something so “terribly offensive” as pointing out sin is going to be avoided, well then, one doesn’t really need to hear the law, for all that does is accuse, convict, and condemn man in his sin.  And, once the law becomes increasingly absent from any church’s message, then one has to revisit the role that Jesus plays, if not to live, suffer, and die to pay for our sin.  But of course a church can’t call itself “Christian” without some mention of Christ, so then he suddenly takes on a new role, kind of like a magic genie who has come to grant wishes and remove all of life’s problems.  He promises happiness and success to all who do as he did and live as he lived.  The sin-bearing Substitute is relegated to nothing more than eye-catching Example.  Look, we’ve taken the old, tired, ineffective gospel, and we’ve made it “relevant.”

If changing the message alone doesn’t do it (and why would it when so horribly altered from the pure gospel?!?), then maybe changing the atmosphere within the church will.  People don’t like to go to church anymore, but they always seem to enjoy concerts, so what can we do to make church less like church and more like a concert?  Step one, remove any and all symbolism that would identify a place as being a church.  Step two, make sure the praise band is front and center, so that it doesn’t feel so “churchy.”  Step three, consider incorporating coffee and comfortable couches so that people can enjoy the show.  Step four, build skate parks and jungle gyms for the kids to hang out in during church, so that they actually look forward to coming to church.  Nevermind that “church” looks less like church and more like a coffee house or a McDonald’s playroom.

But… what happens when changing the message and/or the atmosphere doesn’t work?  Sadly, at that point it isn’t such a stretch for reason to rear its ugly head and lead some to falsely conclude, “God just simply must not be all that interested in saving people anymore.”  See what happens when the devil effectively leads the church to sell out the gospel?  The church forgets what the gospel is in the first place!  It forgets John 3:16:  “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”   It forgets what God wants for all people:  “[God our Savior] wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:4).   It forgets why Jesus came into our world in the first place:  “The reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the devil’s work” (1 John 3:8b).   Surely God still desires that every last soul join him for eternity in heaven!

And in spite of the devil’s best efforts, many will. Though the god of this age has blinded many, he hasn’t blinded all.  Listen to the unparalleled hope Paul holds out to us. He writes, “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ” (v.6).  Satan hasn’t blinded all; he hasn’t blinded you.  God’s light has shone itself in your hearts and removed the veil of unbelief so that you can see forgiveness and salvation.  You now see.

Your case is not so unlike that of an unbelieving man who became blind, but eventually through this hardship became a believer.  A friend one time shared his sympathy with the man, to which he replied, “Do not pity me; I am fortunate. If I still had my eyesight, I might be blind yet. Now that I have become blind, I have learned to see. I could never see Jesus before, and I was not interested in him. But I see him now, and I am much happier today than I was before I became blind.”  When an operation later restored his sight, he said, “May God protect and keep me, so that the things these eyes now see may never again lead me away from the light my inward sight beholds!” (Encyclopedia of Sermon Illustrations, 81)

So just what brought that unbelieving man to faith in Jesus, even in the midst of physical blindness?  The very same thing that brought you to faith; the very same thing that has ever brought anyone to faith: the gospel.  You see, even in the cases of those who to whom the gospel is veiled, there is nevertheless only one thing that will ever change it, and that is more of the same gospel.  To draw the conclusion that the gospel has somehow become ineffective, or will ever become ineffective is to miss the key truth in these verses sandwiched right between Paul’s reference to those veiled in unbelief and those with the light of Christ in their hearts.  Paul knew full well what alone could remove the veil: “For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord” (v.5).

If the gospel appears not to be working, the correct answer is not to replace it with something else, but rather to preach it all the more.  The glory of God’s gospel is Christ, no more, no less.  Christ is God’s glory because without Christ, there remains a veil of separation between God and men.  Sin bars all from God’s presence, and unless the matter of sin is addressed, there is no reconciliation, no relationship with God.  But Christ addressed it by becoming it; he became sin for us. We’ll be reminded of that bittersweet reality once again during the season of Lent, beginning this week on Ash Wednesday.  Christ’s glory, the same glory that was on stunning display on the Mount of Transfiguration for the disciples to behold, is the same glory that Christ would attain through his sorrowful suffering emphasized for the next 40 days.  May we never tire of putting Christ on display as we preach Jesus Christ as Lord, and behold God’s glory.  Amen.

WELS news | Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod (WELS)

WELS news | Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod (WELS)

Do This, not That

sixth sunday after the epiphany

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

Mark 1:40-45

⁴⁰ A man with leprosy came to him and begged him on his knees, “If you are willing, you can make me clean.” ⁴¹ Jesus was indignant. He reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” ⁴² Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cleansed. ⁴³ Jesus sent him away at once with a strong warning: ⁴⁴ “See that you don’t tell this to anyone. But go, show yourself to the priest and offer the sacrifices that Moses commanded for your cleansing, as a testimony to them.” ⁴⁵ Instead he went out and began to talk freely, spreading the news. As a result, Jesus could no longer enter a town openly but stayed outside in lonely places. Yet the people still came to him from everywhere. (NIV)

How many hands did you shake this morning?   Any pats on the back?  How many hugs did you share?  I would imagine that if pressed, we’d even find out that a few of you probably kissed this morning at some point, preferably after all the teeth had been brushed.  The simple act of physical touch is something that is such a routine part of most of our lives that we don’t give it all that much thought.  It’s normal.  It’s natural.  You won’t receive any horrified looks or stares of shock just because you shook someone else’s hand.  A shared hug between friends isn’t going to merit rebuke or admonishment.  We generally understand and even welcome the opportunity to have that kind of physical interaction with family members and friends.

In fact, studies show more and more that human touch is essential to healthy development starting already at birth. Early on in the last century, when no disease or illnesses appeared to be responsible for affecting the poor development or even death of infants in orphanages, it was eventually discovered that a lack of human touch was a major factor.  Infants who were held or touched 45 minutes a day were much healthier than those who were not, even though all other care they received was the same.  The discovery of our need for human touch bears out in the delivery room in hospitals nowadays.  Those of you who whose children are all grown up may recall that when your children were born decades ago, they were taken and placed in the nursery right away.  Today though, the newborn is immediately given to mom and, whenever possible, allowed to stay right there in the room with mom until being discharged from the hospital.  A lack of human touch can result in increased levels of anger, anxiety, and depression both in children and adults.  Patients with dementia appear to do much better with even small amounts of human touch.  Think of how often a simple touch on the hand, a brief backrub, or a hug has calmed you down or reassured you.  Human touch is one of the most basic human needs.  We thrive on it.

Now imagine the leper in this morning’s Gospel going for who-knows-how-long without any physical touch.  Physical touch simply was forbidden for lepers, often times because the disease was highly contagious, but even when it wasn’t contagious, it still relegated a person to the status of being ceremonially unclean.  Anyone who would therefore touch a ceremonially unclean leper would himself become ceremonially unclean.  No touch was allowed.  In fact, there were certain rules about how far away from other people lepers had to remain, and how their faces were to be covered, and how they were to yell “unclean, unclean” if someone approached them too closely.  Days would turn into weeks, weeks would turn into months, months could in some cases turn into a year or more without any human touch.  Imagine living without any sort of physical touch from another human being!  Such limited human interaction would be torture for most of us.

So try to understand what the leper must have felt when Jesus did the unthinkable: he reached out and touched him.  That touch in and of itself would have been such a remarkable and welcome feeling, to say nothing of what that touch accomplished.  Jesus’ touch did more than just offer much needed human interaction for the leper; his touch brought healing.  It wasn’t a process, there was no ongoing treatment necessary, the leper was not required to do a thing to be healed.  Jesus simply touched him, and “Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cured” (v.42).

The account recorded in our Gospel this morning is a relatively short one, but it provides us much spiritual food for thought, nonetheless.  Just about anyone or anything can serve as an example in any given situation.  It might be a good example, or it might be a bad example, but someone or something can always serve as an example.  In the leper we have both.  We have a good example, and we have a poor example.  May the Holy Spirit open our eyes to recognize both this morning.

See how the leper approached Jesus.  “A man with leprosy came to him and begged him on his knees, ‘If you are willing, you can make me clean” (v.40).  He had a need, and he knew Jesus could meet it.  The “if” was not a matter of if Jesus could heal him or not, but was rather a matter of if Jesus would heal him or not.    He had every confidence in Jesus’ ability; it was simply a matter of will.  If Jesus so desired, he could make the leper well, and the leper clearly acknowledged that before Jesus.

Yet he didn’t expect it or demand it.  He didn’t arrogantly assume it was his right to be healed by Jesus.  Neither did he try to barter with Jesus, offering him something in return for being healed: “I’ll be nicer.  I’ll give more.  I’ll go to church more.  I’ll do whatever you want if you just heal me.”  Instead, he approached Jesus humbly and begged him from his knees.  The leper was bold.  He was confident.  But at the same time his demeanor and whole attitude in approaching Jesus was characterized by humility.

It’s a rare combination that isn’t often seen today.  While we see plenty of confidence exuded, it isn’t very often tempered with humility.  Politicians confidently make promises, but when they aren’t kept it isn’t a humble apology that is heard, but an arrogant excuse.  Experts speak confidently on this topic or that, but if they make a flawed point that isn’t supported anywhere else, when a little humility might be in order, it’s nowhere to be found.  Athletes confidently guarantee a win, but after the loss we rarely hear them humbly apologizing for making such a guarantee in the first place.  Confidence coupled with humility is a rare find in our world today.

It can also be a rare find in the church.  Either we lack confidence in God in some area, or we’re overconfident in ourselves.  Either one can easily lead to a lack of humility before God.  If we don’t think he can get the job done for us, then what place is there for humility before him, or, if we think we can do it better or handle it ourselves, then again, what place is there for humility before him?  The same misplaced confidence in self that plagued Adam & Eve has also been handed down to us today.  It’s one thing to fail to trust that God is able to do a thing; it’s another to wrongly assume that we can do it better.  When such arrogant self confidence resides in our hearts, there’s simply no room left for humility. 

That’s where the leper serves as a fine example for us.  He blended confidence with humility.  He was confident in Jesus, but humble in approaching him.  Let us follow suit.

But the other example given us by the leper wasn’t so hot.  Jesus healed him, but then followed it up with a stern warning: “‘See that you don’t tell this to anyone. But go, show yourself to the priest and offer the sacrifices that Moses commanded for you cleansing, as a testimony to them.’ Instead he went out and began to talk freely, spreading the news” (v.44,45a).  On the one hand, it would appear that Jesus’ command seemed out of place; after all, who wouldn’t want to run and tell everyone what had just happened?  So why did Jesus give the command to keep mum? 

Perhaps knowing that the priests would be some of his most bitter rivals, he wanted them to be the first to witness and validate what Jesus had done.  Or, it seems quite plausible that Jesus was concerned about gaining popularity for the wrong reason.  He may not have wanted the word to spread about him being the Healer, so that it wouldn’t compromise the message about him being the Savior.  Whatever Jesus’ reasons, the leper failed to obey.  And because of it, there were consequences.  “As a result [of his failure to obey], Jesus could no longer enter a town openly but stayed outside in lonely places” (v.45b).  Because of the leper’s disobedience, Jesus couldn’t show up in town anymore.  Who knows how many missed out on hearing his gospel message because of it?  Sadly, the leper’s fine example of confident humility was marred by his poor example of disobedience.

And, just as sadly, we often times find ourselves following the leper’s poor example of disobedience rather than his fine example of confident humility.  We treat the Ten Commandments as if they’re merely the Ten Suggestions.  We’re so quick to point out the areas where others fail to obey, but slow to acknowledge our own disobedience in our areas of sinful weakness. 

All of these are reasons we need to see more than just the leper as an example in this morning’s Gospel: we need to see Jesus as our Savior.  And although it is but a small glimpse of his power, his interaction with the leper shows us an overarching principal about Jesus that applies across the board to his interaction with all mankind: the Lord’s compassion takes action.  Jesus did not step back from the leper and wish him well from a distance, reasoning that he didn’t want to risk becoming unclean.  His compassion (much better than the NIV 2011’s “indignant”) compelled him to do something about the leper’s plight.  It moved him to heal and make whole.

That same compassion took action on behalf of all people in a world suffering from something much worse than any physical disease –  the eternal death sentence of separation from God.  Jesus’ compassion moved him to do something about it.  So he replaced our prevalent disobedience with his perfect obedience.  His confidence came from carrying out his Father’s will, which he did from start to finish as a humble servant.  God the Father was so pleased with Jesus’ humble confidence and flawless obedience that he went ahead and applied it to our accounts.  Christ is our confidence.  Christ is our humility.  Christ is our perfect obedience.

But compassion didn’t just take action in Jesus’ life; it also took action in his death… the death he died for all people.  Time and again we are amazed and impressed with Jesus’ miracles and healings, just as we were again this morning.  But could compassion go to any greater length than for one to willingly end his life so that life for others could truly begin?  Can anything in life come close to accomplishing what Jesus did by his death?  By his resurrection?  No!  See Jesus’ bloodied and disfigured body on display at his crucifixion and you see compassion.  That is what compassion looks like.  That was the ugly price paid to pronounce your beautiful forgiveness. 

The leper serves as an example; Jesus served as your Savior.  Rejoice that his compassion took action for you.  Let your humble confidence always rest in him alone as you thankfully live a life of loving obedience.  Amen.

Dads, Date your Daughters

Dad, when is the last time you took your daughter on a date?  If you can't remember (or even if you can!), it's probably about time to do it again.  Here's a helpful article that points out some of the benefits and long-term dividends of dads spending quality time with their daughters.  Valentine's Day is right around the corner, and you've probably thought about spending time with your wife, but have you ever though of using that opportunity to spend some time with the "other" gal in your life - your doting daughter?  It doesn't have to be an expensive date or anything over the top; chances are, she'll love it simply because it was one-on-one time spent with the man she looks up to most in life.

Commitment - who needs it?

A pastor friend of mine just posted this on FB and I thought it worth sharing.  It should be required viewing for every Christian couple contemplating living together before marriage, or, as it used to be more commonly known, "living in sin."

"Hopeless" isn't in God's Vocabulary

5^th sunday after the epiphany

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church

Mark 1:29-39 

29As soon as they left the synagogue, they went with James and John to the home of Simon and Andrew. 30Simon's mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told Jesus about her. 31So he went to her took her hand and helped her up. The fever left her and she began to wait on them. 32That evening after sunset the people brought to Jesus all the sick and demon-possessed. 33The whole town gathered at the door, 34and Jesus healed many who had various diseases. He also drove out many demons, but he would not let the demons speak because they knew who he was.  35Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. 36Simon and his companions went to look for him, 37and when they found him, they exclaimed: "Everyone is looking for you!"  38Jesus replied, "Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages—so I can preach there also. That is why I have come." 39So he traveled throughout Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and driving out demons. (NIV)

I want you to listen once again to the words of Job.  However, as you hear them this time, instead of hearing them from a man you never met who lived several thousand years ago, imagine a friend or family member speaking them to you:

“Do not mortals have hard service on earth? Are not their days like those of hired laborers? Like a slave longing for the evening shadows, or a hired laborer waiting to be paid, so I have been allotted months of futility, and nights of misery have been assigned to me.

When I lie down I think ‘How long before I get up?’ The night drags on, and I toss and turn until dawn. My body is clothed with worms and scabs, my skin is broken and festering. My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and they come to an end without hope. Remember, O God, that my life is but a breath; my eyes will never see happiness again” (7:1-7).

What on earth would you say to someone experiencing all of that?  How do you console him?  He is convinced his situation is so completely and utterly hopeless.  Is there anything you could possibly say to change his mind?

More than likely, you’d be inclined to resort to the safety net from our Second Lesson this morning.  To Job (or a friend), you might say, “Keep your head up.  After all, ‘we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him’” (Romans 8:28).  But I’m not so sure Job would have bought it at the time.  Could one fault him for failing to be able to see the “good” around the corner in a life comprised of days marked only by futility, sleepless nights of restless misery, a body covered in sores and disease, and a spirit that is crushed and deflated, one that had all but given up on life?

Bad as it was, Job’s life wasn’t always that way.  In fact, there was a time in this world when no one’s life was that bad; a time when the word “hopeless” had no place in the world.  But that was thousands of years ago, and even then it lasted mere days after creation when all was perfect and well.  Then sin entered the world, and hopelessness with it. 

We heard last Sunday how things looked hopeless for the man Jesus met in the synagogue that morning “who was possessed by an evil spirit” (Mk. 1:23).  The demon had been tormenting him for who knows how long.  It had led him to yell and spew out uncontrollably.  It led him to behave in ways that resulted in awkward stares from on-looking eyes.  It led him to do things he wouldn’t have imagined doing had he not been possessed.  And he was helpless to change his situation.  His situation was hopeless.

Neither did things look so promising for Simon’s mother-in-law (v.30).  She was bedridden with a serious illness.  This was more than just allergies acting up.  It was more than just the common cold.  The doctor Luke in his Gospel reveals that this was a high fever that caused her a great deal of suffering.  The medication wasn’t cutting it.  Her situation was hopeless.

And then the whole town came a-knocking.  That evening all the ailing, the dejected and diseased showed up at Simon and Andrew’s house.  I’ll bet your little wait in the doctor’s office doesn’t seem so long compared to waiting in line for a whole village to be healed.  The demon-possessed, the mentally ill, the virus-inflicted, the degenerately diseased, and hosts of others came because no other treatments worked.  There were no magical cure-alls; no cutting-edge procedures.  Their situations were hopeless.

Are there those who feel the same way today?  Do you feel the same way today?  While we’ve got the luxury of countless drugs and medications today, they still can’t guarantee a cure for the loved one diagnosed with cancer.  And speaking of the wealth of drugs and treatments available today, they don’t seem so effective in light of periodic reports of rapidly evolving bacteria.  It seems antibiotics aren’t packing the same punch they used to.  What does that mean for us a few years down the road?  What does that mean for our children?  Is the lack of potent drugs eventually going to leave us hopeless when we have nowhere else to turn?

Things do not always take a turn for the better just by stepping outside the field of sickness and medication.  What of ruined relationships?  What about once rock-solid marriages that seem to be slowly crumbling to pieces?  We’ve tried to repair them.  We’ve read and reread what all the experts have to say.  We’ve gone to counseling.  We’ve even forgiven.  We’ve bent over backwards to try to glue what’s become unglued.  Yet it all seems so hopeless.

And then just when we think things can’t get any worse, we experience heart-wrenching loss that hits us like the Titanic slamming into an iceberg.  The job that once brought security and a regular income—gone.  The savings that we planned on living off of during retirement—nearly depleted.  And to top it all off the phone rings and the voice on the other end of the line informs us that someone dear to us been severely injured or has died.  Such losses can weigh us down and cause everything to appear hopeless.

But isn’t that what sin does?  Doesn’t it color everything with the hues of hopelessness?  Doesn’t it put up what appear to be dead ends in our lives and leave us with nowhere to turn?  Doesn’t sin so often choke the joy out of life?  Isn’t sin – and not just others’ sin, but our sin – isn’t that what’s really at the root of all of our problems, sufferings, heartache, and depression?  Isn’t that what’s really at the heart of hopelessness – sin?

If that’s true, if sin is at the heart of hopelessness, then what’s at the heart of hope?  It’s not “what,” but “who.”  And the answer, of course, is Jesus.  When Jesus arrived in our world, hope arrived with him.  Jesus was the difference between hopeless and hope.  He rebuked the demon possessing the man in the synagogue with the words “‘Come out of him!’  The evil spirit shook the man violently and came out of him with a shriek” (Mk. 1:25, 26). “Hopeless” had been replaced with hope.  But Jesus’ work had only just begun.  Later that day he also healed Simon’s mother-in-law with the touch of his hand.  “Hopeless” had again been replaced by hope.  That evening was no different.  No matter what disease showed up at the door, every variety was cured by Jesus.  For an entire town “hopeless” had been replaced by hope.       

Look at all our Savior has done to bring hope!  He healed – disability or disease or even demon-possession was no match for him.  Then notice how he spent his time the very next morning: he prayed.  And do you suppose Jesus prayed only for himself?  We have the example of his High-Priestly prayer from John’s Gospel that reveals a sample of his prayer life – and it’s filled with prayers for others, including you and me.  Still today he intercedes on our behalf.  And after he prayed, he moved along to preach the good news of the gospel.  He brought hope through healing, hope through prayer, and hope through preaching salvation.

But it would not have been sufficient for Jesus simply to preach about salvation; it was also necessary for him to secure it on our behalf.  That is why he ultimately ended up at Calvary.  That is why he hung from the cross with arms spread wide.  And hope did not remain bottled up in Jesus’ tomb, but instead burst out of the grave with him.  Jesus’ death and resurrection resulted in hope for a hopeless world.  Jesus today is the difference between “hopeless” and hope.  Your baptism confirms it.  The Lord’s Supper assures you of it.  Everything that has ever been discolored by the hopelessness of sin has been restored by the hope that comes from forgiveness; the assurance of a “not guilty” decree by our just Judge in heaven.  That same hope heals where medicine cannot, where marriage counselors fall short, and where employment is no sure thing.  The hopelessness of all sin; our sin, your sin, my sin, has been replaced by the hope that comes from our being forever forgiven.

That forgiveness is the foundation on which God’s promise in Romans 8:28 is based.  We can know that in all things God does indeed work for the good of those who love him, because he already has.  He’s already worked for our good in the one eternal area that mattered – our sin has been covered by his grace.  Let the devil throw all that he can at me, just as he tried with Job.  I can suffer every evil imaginable in this world, but he cannot rob me of God’s grace.  That is mine.  That is yours.  Because his grace is ours, so is hope.   

Brothers and sisters, after realizing the significance of that hope in our own lives, and continuing to regularly be renewed by it as we digest it daily from God’s Word, let us share that hope with others.  Make no mistake; the world is a hopeless place without Christ.  But how can the world know about the hope Jesus offers unless someone tells them?  Will your neighbor ever know that Jesus offers hope after divorce unless you tell him?  Will your coworker know that Jesus offers hope for abuse unless you share it with her?  Will your friends and classmates know that Jesus offers hope for addiction unless you let them know?  How will your own family know about the hope you have for eternity unless you use every opportunity you have to make that abundantly clear?       

The word “hopeless” isn’t in God’s vocabulary.  It was done away with through Christ.  Hope has been restored; hope for all people; hope for your neighbor, your coworker, your friends and family; hope for you.  Amen.